Page 43 of Eternally London

She holds it tighter and peers at me with her large blue eyes and long white lashes. Her skin is porcelain white without any markings or blemishes. Her light lips are plump and puckered into a pout, as she’s clearly trying to figure me out.

“You can trust me. I won’t hurt you,” I say, hoping the tone of my voice will convey my meaning.

She reaches out one hand and touches a lock of my hair that has fallen over my shoulder.

“Hair,” I say. “Hair,” I repeat as I touch her hair, which is white with a hint of yellow. It stands on end with tiny curls in an Afro atop her head. “I think your hair is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” I smile.

She pulls my hair through her fingers, and I repeat, “Hair,” even though I don’t know why I’m trying to teach her English. It doesn’t make sense, but it gives me something to say.

I vaguely register the clicking of Oliver’s camera, and I’m glad he’s getting some shots of this little girl. I want to always remember her.

Her attention goes to the bangle bracelets I wear on my wrist. She touches one of the charms.

“Those are bracelets. Do you like them?”

She continues to poke at the charms that hang from my wrist, so I take off the bracelets and place them on her hand. They’re way too big for her and slide down her arm when she lifts it.

“They’re a little big for you. But you can have them.”

I gently lower her arm, so the bangles slide back down to her wrist. She bounces her arm and starts to smile as the jewelry makes small clinking noises when they hit each other.

Her smile does something to my heart, making it flutter and fall in the space of a heartbeat. I want to smile big because she is the cutest little human I’ve ever seen. At the same time, I have this intense need to start crying because she lives here, in this place where people want to slice off her arms and legs.

How could anyone want to hurt her?

Her little grin is fleeting, and I want to see more of it.

I remove the bracelets from her wrists. “Watch this,” I say. I start to shake the bangles in my hand, like a rattle.

She intently watches me, and then I place the bracelets in her palm and close her chubby little baby fingers around them.

“Shake it.” I imitate the motion with my empty hand.

She copies me and giggles when the bracelets make noise.

My heart breaks at the sound of her innocent laughter.

I can’t do this story. I can’t.

I have no power to stop the tears that roll down my cheeks. I’m ten minutes into my job, and I’m falling apart.

Dr. Gyasi’s voice comes from behind me. “She’s a sweet one, yes?”

I wipe my tears on my shirt and attempt to compose myself as I stand. “She is,” I say. “What’s her story? Is she sick?”

“No, she is not sick. Her mother left her here after her older brother, who was also albino, was attacked and killed in their home one night. Her father said that she was a curse and wanted her gone. Many people here feel that albino children are a bad omen from the devil.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is, but albinos are greatly misunderstood here. It is a very big problem.”

“Where will she go?”

“We do not know yet. We are trying to find her a spot in an orphanage. When she is older, she can go to one of the albino camps.”

“Camps?” I question.

“Yes, they are like boarding schools for albino children. The government set them up, and they are protected by metal gates to keep the bad men out.”

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